


Doobie Does as Doobie Will

by sheafrotherdon



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Community: mcsmooch, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-19
Updated: 2008-08-19
Packaged: 2017-10-11 22:51:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/118015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheafrotherdon/pseuds/sheafrotherdon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John wakes up, as usual, when the shower turns on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doobie Does as Doobie Will

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dogeared](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dogeared/gifts).



John wakes up, as usual, when the shower turns on. It's a quirk of his personality that the seismic pitch and roll of the bed when Rodney gets up never makes him stir, but the soft hiss of water hitting tile always pierces the fog in his brain, makes his eyebrows twitch and his eyelids always open not long after. He stares at the ceiling for a moment, wondering what day it is, what month it is, who he is and _why someone is singing_.

"Dooooo doo doo doo doo, doobie doobie doobie doooo . . . " Rodney sings. "Doobie doobie doobie dooooo, doobie doobie dooo . . . don' worry be happy now . . . DOOOO dooo doo dooo doo . . ."

John grabs a pillow and smothers himself so as not to disturb the show with his laughter.

"Ain't got no place to lay your head, somebody came and took your bed, don't worry . . . be happy . . ."

There's a suspicious amount of rhythmic splashing going on – John is almost certain Rodney's not only singing but _dancing_ in the shower. He rolls over onto his belly and presses his face into the pillow that's his only hope of dignity, braying quieting into its fluffy depths.

"DOOOO DOO DOO DO . . .hey, new shampoo . . . DOOBIE DOOBIE la la laaaaaa, doobie la la la laaaaaa . . . "

It's more than John can bear. Conceding defeat he rolls out of bed, steps out of his boxers and wanders into the bathroom. What he sees makes him bite his lip so hard he almost draws blood – Rodney's singing into a microphone made of a bottle of shower gel, with his limited quota of hair sculpted into a soapy Mohawk. His eyes are closed, one arm raised as if to command the crowd at some imagined concert to sway with him, and his hips are shimmying in time with his doobies. "Don' WORRY! Be HAAAAAAPY NOW," Rodney commands his audience, bending slightly at the waist and waggling his shoulders.

John slaps both hands over his mouth but it's not enough – a snort escapes, and Rodney jerks, shower gel microphone leaping out of his hand and skittering across the floor of the shower stall. "You!" Rodney says. "You . . . you . . . sneak!"

John gives up the fight and laughs softly, opening the shower door and crowding inside, taking Rodney's soapy face between his hands and covering it with kisses. " _God_ ," he manages before he kisses Rodney right on the mouth, eschewing subtlety for some high-quality filth.

"Hmmph," Rodney manages, slightly dazed, when John pulls back. "Woke you."

"Yeah," John grins, playing with Rodney's shampoo'd hair. "S'okay. Doooo doo doo dooo dooo . . . "

And Rodney grins at him, slaps him sharply on the butt, and pushes his head right under the spray.


End file.
